


my head and heart (argue about you)

by mottainai



Series: good intentions [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Touch, Banter, Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV) References, Concerned Citizen Keith, Hunk and Pidge have a good time, Keith is ready to fight creeps 24/7, M/M, Never fear work is entirely written and will be posted weekly, Russian Translation Available, Sendak is slimy af and the author is unapologetic about it, The Author Begs You To Suspend Your Disbelief, Undercover Detective Lance, discussions of underage prostitution, klance month, lance is a badass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-05-19 01:31:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19346821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mottainai/pseuds/mottainai
Summary: Lance is going undercover as an underage prostitute to take down Sendak for once and for all. His biggest obstacle? Keith, a concerned citizen who isn't about to let any creeps take advantage of a kid.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings for groping that Lance does not enjoy but undergoes as part of the undercover operation.
> 
> Russian translation done by @klance-is-loveee on tumblr can be found here: https://ficbook.net/readfic/8453170

When Lance was twelve his younger sister went missing. His parents went crazy, torn between tearing the city apart to find her and holding together the rest of their family with shaking hands. She was gone for half a day, but those hours were some of the darkest of his young life, rolling each bead of the rosary between his fingers with his siblings.

And then they had gotten a knock on their door. There, standing on their stoop had been a uniformed officer with Candela in his arms, looking dirty but unhurt. The policeman had told them that he had found her in a disused parking garage that had closed on her while she was running after her ball.

His parents had stood in their doorway spending ten minutes trying to find different ways of saying thank you before inviting the man inside. Lance had gazed up at him, slack-jawed, and had known indefinitely that he wanted to become a police officer like this larger-than-life hero.

That dream had kept him going through the Academy, no matter how horrible Iverson could be. He was going to help people. He was going to become a hero.

Somehow, that dream had led him all the way up to where he was now: shivering his ass off on a filthy street corner in the small hours of the morning.

Really, the leather short-shorts were a bit much, but Allura had been adamant.

Or, _Capitan Altea,_ as he had taken to calling her in retribution. “Actually Lance, I’ve been trying to get you to call me by my proper title for years, so it’s hardly a punishment,” She had said. “I know that this isn’t the most pleasant assignment, but Sendak has slipped charges before. We need evidence so solid that their lawyer can’t wriggle him out of it. We need a tape, and you’re new enough to the force that no one in the Galra will recognise you.” She had looked just the right mixture of apologetic and stern, and Lance had known she was right. Sendak was one of Zarkon’s highest generals, and had managed to run an underage prostitution ring for far too long.

Even so, he hadn’t gone quietly. “How can you be so sure that they won’t be able to sniff out that I’m a cop, or that Sendak will buy that I’m underage, huh? Pidge looks way younger than I do.”

“Pidge is a tech agent, she’s not cleared for undercover work.” Capitan Altea had dismissed. Behind her back, Pidge had cheerfully lifted both her middle fingers at him. “And let’s be honest, you never quite grew completely out of that teenager gangliness. There is makeup to make you look younger if needed. As for blending in, on your first day here you flirted with me persistently for over an hour before I had to tell you that I was both your superior officer and engaged. I don’t expect you to have much of a problem.”

He had turned a pleading gaze on Hunk, but the traitor had only shrugged his shoulders. “She’s got a point, dude. One of our first conversations was about how much ‘game’ you’ve got.”

“That was years ago!” Lance protested. “I’ve definitely grown as a person since then.”

Capitan Altea- hell, he couldn’t keep this up- Allura had handed him the case file. “Certainly, but that doesn’t mean that you’ve forgotten how.”

It was Romelle that had squeezed him into the horrid-skimpy-itchy-metallic leather shorts, completed with a ripped fishnet long sleeve under a lavender crop top and lime green converse. Because ‘underage’ also meant ‘colourblind’ in Romelle’s book. And freezing. He could practically feel the wind brushing against his balls.

He was currently trying to make wrapping his arms around himself for warmth look sultry. So far, he hadn’t managed to drag anyone in yet.

“Oh, they’ll need to give me a medal after we bag this guy.” He muttered. “They usually do that when an officer loses a limb, right? If you know what I mean.”

 _“McClain, please keep your communications about the operation and especially refrain from talking about your penis.”_ Antok spoke, his voice carrying through Lance’s new tragus piercing. When Lance had first seen it he had thought it was a spy movie joke, but then Romelle had brought out the piercing gun. 

“Yeah, yeah, Sergeant.” Lance sniped. “Are you sure I’m close enough?”

 _“Yes, Lance.”_ Pidge butted in. _“You can’t just plant yourself in front of Daibazaal, Sendak will get suspicious. They’ll be expecting a sting after his arrest. You’ve got to make him think he’s seeking you out, not the other way around.”_

Lance grumbled, trying to find a section of pavement that didn’t reek of piss. “I’m sure that sounds a lot easier from inside your cushy heated van. Has he even come out into the street?”

 _“No, but the bouncer is probably under instructions to notice any new-”_ Pidge hesitated, fumbling for the right word. _“-Employees.”_

 _“You can do it, buddy.”_ Hunk supplied, trying to put on a cheerful tone. _“Go get ‘em, tiger. We’ve got your back no matter what.”_

The op wasn’t altogether too complicated. Lance, in sight of Zarkon’s club, was to pose as an underage hooker in the hopes of being invited in by Sendak into his personal ring. There was a wire sewn into the waistband of the horrid shorts to catch the crime general slimy-handed. In the meantime, any Johns Lance solicited earning his reputation were going to be lead right into the hands of the law via Hunk and Antok.

He just had to actually _solicit_ someone first.   

 _“There’s someone coming,”_ Antok said flatly. _“You’re not going to reel in any paedophiles by talking to yourself like a crazy person.”_

Oh, how Lance wanted to retort back at him, but unfortunately Antok was right. A stocky man was approaching, probably on his way into one of the clubs lining the street. Lance could see the blotchy stains on his shirt and the scraggly beard under his beanie even this far away in the dark.

Lance straightened, kicking a foot up against the telephone pole behind him. “Hey baby,” He purred, laying his Cuban accent on extra thick, “You look a bit lonely.”

 _“Eugh.”_ Pidge muttered.

The man stopped mid-stride, and Lance could see the decision being made in his small pinched eyes. Then he came closer.

Here we go. Lance could do this, no thang. Bag the creep.

“You know what? I think I could do with some…” The man paused, coming right into Lance’s personal space, resting a forearm on the pole above Lance’s head. “...Company.”

Lance gripped his hands together to stop himself from punching the creep. “I’m glad, baby.” He tilted his head to the side in what he hoped was innocent pondering. “And what kind of company are you after, exactly?”

A hand slid down to rest on his ass. “This right here.” The man breathed. He smelt like stale beer and cigarettes.

_“I should’ve saved my eugh.”_

“And you got it, baby.” Lance looked up at him through his eyelashes. He almost had him. “For the right money, anyways. But don’t keep me up to long, yeah? It’s a school night.”

The man grinned. Lance was dimly aware of another pedestrian passing by. “Don’t worry, darl. How old are ya, anyway?”

“Seventeen,” Lance whispered, imagining the click of the handcuffs closing around this slimy man’s wrists.

The man leaned in closer, the grip on his ass becoming firmer. “Now that can be our little-”

“Oh, you sick _fuck._ ” In half a second, the creep was thrown to the ground. A newcomer was towering over him, a foot pressed to the man’s shoulder to keep him from getting up.

 _“Uh… What just happened?”_ Hunk asked, baffled.

Lance could only splutter, unable to find the right words for his character. He wanted to give this new guy a piece of his mind, but he couldn’t do so without potentially blowing the entire op.

“This is what’s going to happen,” The new guy said. “You’re going to get your grimy ass up and slither back to the hole you came from. You won’t so much as _think_ about touching this kid. If I see you again, you’ll get a lot worse than just these bruises. Do you understand?”

Pidge cackled. _“Looks like Lance just got undercover cock-blocked.”_

The creep whimpered, nodding. The newcomer leaned more weight on his shoulder. “It was a yes or no question, fucker.”

“Yes! yes! Just let me go!” Lance’s ex-perp squealed.

Sighing, the new guy stepped off him, and the creep wasted no time in wrenching himself to his feet and running away. All that work for nothing.

 _“I don’t think I’ve ever been so disappointed in a good Samaritan.”_ Antok remarked dryly.

The man turned, bending down to pick up the sports bag he had dropped, slinging it over his shoulder. As he straightened and his face came into the yellow light, Lance suddenly forgot what breathing was like.

The guy was gorgeous, all pale skin and high cheekbones and raven hair swept back into a short ponytail. He was dressed in black sweats and a red zip up hoodie and Lance could guess he had just come from the gym. It took a second for Lance to remember that he was pissed at him.

“You should go home, kid. Is there someone I can call for you?” He asked.

Lance looked away, hoping that the guy would be satisfied in his good deed and leave him alone. “No.” He answered shortly.

“Well, I’m not just going to leave you here.” The guy protested. Lance groaned inwardly.

“What, are you going to kidnap me?” Lance snapped back.

“That’s not what I-” The man sighed. “Look, I can promise you that this isn’t the solution. Are you staying somewhere? If you’re on the streets it’s nothing to be ashamed of, I can walk you to the nearest shelter and-”

Lance needed to derail the situation. “I don’t need to stay in a shelter!” He shot back. “Please, just leave me be.”

The guy shook his head. “Like hell I’m going to let these assholes take advantage of a kid.” Then he dropped his sports bag again and sat down on it.

Lance blinked. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Red hoodie shrugged. “If I can’t call someone to get you, and I can’t walk you to a shelter, then I’m just gonna have to sit here and make sure you don’t get any customers.”

 _“Not gonna lie, this is pretty sweet. I don’t know if you could shake this guy off while staying in the right area.”_ Hunk commented.

Lance could feel a vein in his temple throbbing in frustration. It was only the first day, and the op was already in danger of crumbling apart. He lifted his nose into the air and crossed the street.

Only half a second later Red Hoodie was settling down beside him again. Lance let out a huff through his nose and drew his arms tight around himself. He resolutely didn’t look at Red Hoodie. He heard a sigh, and the other man shuffling about.

 _“We might need to start thinking of a backup plan.”_ Antok remarked.

A wad of slightly sweaty red fabric hit him in the face. The hoodie. “You look cold.” Lance looked at the other man incredulously. “Just put it on.” He said, exasperated.

Lance _was_ cold. It wasn’t like he was going to be needing to take off anything anyway. Romelle might throw a fit, but whatever. He slid it over his shoulders, but refused to zip it up.

“The name’s Keith.” The guy told him.

Lance let the silence hang for a few moments, just to be a brat about it. “Lance.” He replied, eventually.

Pidge chuckled. _“I can tell this is going to be the start of something great.”_

* * *

 The next day, Lance was sitting at his desk in the precinct, making a dent in his daily mountain of paperwork. A coffee slid in front of him, and he looked up to see Allura perched on the side of his desk.

“So I heard from Pidge that you have yourself a well-meaning citizen.” She broached.

Lance nodded, taking time to sip at the smooth fancy coffee from the overpriced place down the street. “Yeah, he manages to be the most irritating good person ever.” He retorted.

Allura raised an eyebrow at him. “You’ve got that look on your face you have when you’re not saying everything you’re thinking.”

Damn Allura and her impeccable detective skills. Sure, Keith was one of the most gorgeous people he had met and he may have had straying thoughts about running his hands over those hard muscles but he was stubborn to a fault. That stubbornness was his biggest obstacle in the operation right now. “He’s complicated the op.” He replied eventually.  

Allura nodded, biting her lip. “That he has. If he continues to be an obstruction I might have to hand this case off to another team at a different precinct.”

The coffee suddenly tasted bitter. Lance knew how important bagging Sendak was to Allura. When she was a rookie detective he had gathered evidence on the ring, but most of it was either thrown out in court or went missing mysteriously. The chargers never stuck, not then, not now. “I’ll get the tape for you, Allura.” He promised. “You know, the simplest solution here would be to just tell him I’m undercover.”

She was already shaking her head before he could finish the sentence. “You know that’s against policy. He could write something on the internet, or very well be a plant for Zarkon to sniff out police officers.”

Lance shrugged. He knew she was right, but that didn’t make it any less inconvenient. “I guess I’ll just have to dodge him as best as I can.”

“Yes, you can try starting on the other side of Daibazaal,” Allura advised. “You never know, he might have been content with one night of heroism and you won’t see him again.”

Lance smiled thinly. “Yeah, maybe.” He hoped that would be the case, but he had a feeling he’d be seeing that mullet again.

* * *

 Lance was sitting in the blessedly warm van with Hunk and Pidge while Antok transported his second perp of the evening back to the precinct for holding. He hadn’t seen Keith as of yet, and dare he say it, he was on a roll.

The first perp had taken a bit of convincing - some stressed law associate in a rumpled blazer and loosened tie that really should have known better than to agree to pay an underage boy for sex. The second, Lance hadn’t had to try very hard at all. He rolled his shoulders, trying to erase the phantom feeling of that rough grip from the back of his neck.

“Ruh-roh.” Pidge called out from in front of the surveillance feeds, turning a shit eating grin on Lance. “We’ve got a Prince Charming with a glass slipper looking for Cinderella.” She pointed to one of the screens, and sure enough, there was a figure that looked very much like Keith, familiar sports bag in hand.

With apparent comedic timing, Hunk’s phone chimed the Funky Cold Medina. “And that’s the average time for an alley blowjob.” He remarked lightly. “Ten bucks says Lance can avoid him for a whole ten minutes.”

“I’ll take you up on that.” Pidge replied immediately.

Lance groaned. How were these people his friends?

He stood, taking a second to adjust the shorts into the least uncomfortable position. “20 minutes.” He said. “With no eye in the sky unless it’s about Sendak.”

Pidge laughed. “This is going to be the easiest 20 dollars I’ve ever made.”

Hunk grasped his shoulder. “Good luck.” He said in overstated graveness.

Lance rolled his eyes at the both of them, swinging open the van door. “Peace out.”

And so he was out in the cold again. Wasting no time hanging around, he hurried out onto the street, making sure to keep the throng of people milling around the entrance of Daibazaal between him and Keith. He rolled onto the balls of his feet, looking around for the next John.

A group of young men were ambling down the street, and he caught the eye of one looking back at him. He quickly looked away, but Lance knew he had him.

As a group approached, Lance slinked into a doorway, angling his body just so. He caught the young man’s eye again and smiled softly at him as if they shared a secret.

_“You’re getting pretty good at this, actually.”_

Lance beckoned at the young man. “Interested in making a good night great?” He asked teasingly.

The young man broke off from his friends, the group howling and whistling at him. He came to a stop a foot away, glancing back at his friends. “I-” He started, making an aborted motion with his hand.

Lance winked. “It’s okay, I don’t bite unless you want me to.”

 _“Dude.”_ Hunk choked.

The young man rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t really do this kind of stuff.” He said bashfully.

Lance decided to suspend any pity he could possibly feel for this man until after he declined to pay for an underage prostitute. “Don’t worry, I can take care of you.” He promised sweetly.

“And I can take you to the nearest precinct for buying sex from a minor.” Keith drawled, a few steps away. Fuck. “Scram, kid.”

And he did, jogging after his friends. The answering chorus of boos reached Lance’s ears as he stared Keith down.

_“That’s four minutes and twenty-six seconds! Pay up, Hunk! Don’t think I’ll forget about you either, Lance.”_

Keith fished into his sports bag, handing him the same red hoodie from yesterday and a plastic bag. Resigned, Lance slipped on the hoodie. It smelt like laundry soap. Keith had washed it with him in mind. He opened the bag to find a burger box. “What’s this?” He asked.

Keith shrugged. “The most calorie-heavy burger they had on the menu,” He replied, fishing out his own burger and sitting down on his sports bag like the day before. “A scarecrow has more muscle mass than you.”

“I take offence to that comment.” Lance sniped back, lifting the burger to his mouth. The second the juicy meat and melted cheese touched his tongue he couldn’t help but let out a small groan. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.” He mumbled, mouth full.

Keith shook his head at him, chuckling. “They are good burgers, aren’t they? It’s my favourite place.”

Lance nodded along, looking down to see that he had somehow managed to eat half of it. His lips turned down, the action not escaping Keith’s notice. “We can go and get another, you know. The place isn’t far from here.” He told him in between bites. “And it’s only a block away from the shelter.”

Lance frowned at him, waving a greasy finger his way. “Nuh uh, nice try.”

Keith shrugged. “It was worth a shot.” Seeing Lance was almost finished, he offered the last half of his own burger. “Here, I’m not that hungry.”

Lance came closer and took it from him, never one to snub free food. “Thanks,” He said. He didn’t move away again.

 _“You know, this is actually pretty cute.”_ Pidge piped up after an uncommon silence.

 _“I know right?”_ Hunk replied. _“Like if Nicholas Sparks wrote a crime movie. Oh, hi Antok.”_

“So, are you from the city?” Keith asked him.

_“Let’s not forget the mission here, detectives.”_

Lance did his best to tune out the conversation happening in his ear. “Nah, my family’s from Cuba, but we moved here for better opportunities.”

“Is that what this is?” Keith asked him, gesturing around the dirty street. “A better opportunity?”

Lance rolled his eyes at him. “It’s not exactly what my parents had in mind, no.” He needed to divert the conversation before he blew his cover. “And you? Is this home?”

Keith shrugged. “I can’t say I’m from anywhere, really. I lived in a lot of different places with a lot of different foster families so.” He shrugged again. “But now I live here with my brother, so I guess it’s home now.”

Lance hummed. “And you’re what? A full time-protector of innocence?”

Pidge snorted in his ear. _“Oh, he’s totally flirting with him.”_

“Nah, that’s just a recent gig, apparently.” Keith quipped. “My brother, Shiro and I run a gym near here. That’s where I’m coming from each night.”

“Sounds like exciting days spotting for jocks at the bench press.” He teased, dropping down onto the front step of the doorway. It wasn’t like he’d be able to bag any Johns anyway, standing or sitting.

Keith shook his head. “We actually employ people to do that. You’d have to hand in your resume to Shiro though, he does the hiring.”

 _“If I took a video of this it would go straight to trending.”_ Hunk joked.

Lance let out a laugh. “You don’t give up, do you?”

Keith leveled a gaze at him then, face serious. It was too dark to determine what colour his eyes were. It shouldn’t have bothered Lance as much as it did. “Never.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for more gross touch and guns!

It became a routine, of sorts.

Every night, Lance worked the operation as much as he could, drawing in Johns of all kinds -overzealous club goers, men who had come specifically looking for his type of company, and even a female stockbroker who had been all kinds of explicit in her intentions with him. Lance was never going to be able to look at cocktail shrimp the same way ever again.

Every night, inevitably, Keith would find him, in more or less time than the night before, a bag of fast food in hand. One time he caught Lance just as he was leaving the alley, and looked so sick to his stomach that Lance almost blurted out that he was only an undercover agent right then and there. Keith came earlier the next night. 

Lance found himself learning a lot about Keith. He was twenty-four, only a year older than Lance in real life but seven years older that what was meant to be portraying. He liked to work out late at night because there were fewer people around. His favourite colour was red, and he liked spicy food.

He knew about the Galra based in Daibazaal, but wouldn’t tell Lance how. He suggested, more than once, that they even move just one street over. “It’s dangerous to be this close.” He had said vaguely. Every time Lance refused, and Keith dropped the issue eventually, but did not look happy about it.

He taught the self-defense class at his gym, which made a lot of sense. Lance looked back to that first night, the way he had hauled the creep to the ground in the different light of someone who worked with victims of such men. 

One time, Lance let Keith talk him into learning some self-defense from him, right there in the street: “You should really know these things, no matter what,” He had told him. “And I will feel a lot better about all the times I’m not here if you do.” Lance spent the whole time carefully checking his reactions and clumsily swinging his fists to pretend he was much less experienced than he was. 

(He also maybe had to pretend that Keith’s hands on him didn’t affect him as much as they did. He couldn’t go there, not when Keith thought he was underage.)

Lance had already learned most of the techniques Keith taught him, but there was something about the easy litheness in the way Keith moved that had Lance itching for a proper spar against him. When this was all over, Lance would ask then. 

There were a lot of things Lance wanted to do when this was all over. 

He found himself living in a contradiction -he looked forward to seeing Keith each night, but each minute he spent with him wasn’t contributing to the op. He wanted to finish the op as quickly as he could, but to do that he had to flee from Keith for as long as he could. It was a knife-edge balance, and Lance didn’t want to cut himself.

And then one night Keith didn’t come. 

It was drizzling, the light rain highlighted by the street lights. By the time Lance had bagged his fifth John, he realised that the other man wasn’t going to show. He told himself that it was a good thing, that he would be able to do more work this way. But still, even as he was ensnaring the neighbourhood creeps in his trap, he found himself thinking about Keith. Maybe he had given up on Lance, deemed his efforts futile. Or maybe he had found something better to do with his nights. Or maybe-

 _“I think we’ll call it a night here.”_ Antok had said.

The next night Lance met Shiro, just as he was leading a John to the alley where Hunk and Antok were waiting. Shiro had a different, more polite way of suggesting that the man keep his hands to himself and find another place to lurk, but the fire in his eyes was the same. 

“Keith is so sick that he can’t walk to the kitchen without half collapsing,” He had explained after introducing himself. “But that wasn’t going to stop himself from dragging himself out here to watch out for you. I told him I would come instead, is it alright if I send him a selfie to prove I’m with you?”

In all the possible reasons Lance had been swimming in, he hadn’t considered something so pedestrian as the flu. Keith seemed too infallible for that.

Shiro was good company, calm and steady. He didn’t ask any big questions, questions that start with Why or How. Lance wondered if it was because he already knew some of the answers, wondered if Keith talked about him at home.

When Keith came the next day, red-nosed with a scarf tangled around his neck, Lance told him he was a dumbass. Without realising it, his fingers had come up to straighten the scarf. 

For a moment, his hands stilled, eyes coming up to meet Keith’s, staring back at him. It felt right. 

Then the moment was broken, Keith shrugging out of Lance’s space hurriedly. The three feet distance between them felt deliberate.  

* * *

 “No, no, no, you’re not getting it,” Lance replied exasperatedly. “Sharks, dude. You think they’re dangerous in the water, but they’re ten times more badass in the air.”

Keith was already shaking his head. “It makes absolutely no sense. Sharks breathe through _gills._ In _water._ No tornado physics mumbo-jumbo they try and explain it with makes the whole premise any less ridiculous.” 

“You can’t know that for sure!” Lance replied, arms flailing wide. “It’s never happened before, so you can’t know.”

“It’s never happened before because it’s physically impossible.” Keith scoffed. “I can’t believe you’re defending this.”

 _“I’m with Keith on this one.”_ Pidge piped up.

Lance tutted. “Well, you’re focusing too much on the science and boring bits.” He told him. “You can’t enjoy anything that way. _Sharknado_ is an emotional experience, you can’t judge it until you’ve seen it. The sequel is pretty good too.”

Keith turned to him, jaw comically slack. “You’re telling me they made a movie about flying sharks biting people’s arms off, and then they made _another one?”_ He shook himself free from the thought. “I would never, under my own free will, watch something like that.” 

Hunk groaned. _“Oh, I can see where this is going.”_

“If I have to force you to watch it I will,” Lance promised. “You can thank me later for not letting you miss out on such a valuable life experience. You can bring the popcorn.” 

The street was loud of early morning drunkenness but silence reverberated in the space between them. Lance could feel it, some unspoken line crossed. He bit his lip to stop himself from saying anything more. Keith’s hands were clenched together. “You know, for a second there I was all caught up in it all and I believed you.” He finally said. “And then I remembered why you’re here. Why I’m here.”

Lance swallowed. “I’m sorry.” 

Keith nodded. “I know, I just don’t get it.” He sighed. “I can’t be good for uh,” His jaw tightened. “-business.”

Lance struggled to find the right words. “Well, no, but-”

“What more can I do, Lance?” Keith interrupted him. “I can give you food, and offer you work. I can come to this filthy street every night, but I can never get you off it. And I don’t understand why.”

Lance was very aware of the still silence coming from the other end of his earpiece. He dropped into the doorway, sandwiching his hands between his knees. “There’s a reason, I promise. A very good reason. I can’t tell you now, but one day I will.” He told him earnestly, resolving himself not to lie. 

Keith rubbed the bridge of his nose. He looked tired. “I want to believe you.”

“Then believe me. This isn’t going to be forever.” Lance promised.

Keith nodded. “I hope so.” 

They left it there, neither side wanting to chase the matter further. 

Lance let the conversation stew in his mind. Keith made him want to blow the whole operation, and that was a dangerous thing. Even wrapped up in Keith’s red hoodie, the cold seeped through his skin to his bones. He smoothed his hands over the goosebumps that peeked through the fishnet top, knees jangling together.

Keith let out a huff of air. “I’ll run to the seven-eleven, get us something hot.” He stood, slinging his sports bag over his shoulder. “Stay here.” 

“Okay,” Lance replied. Even if he could reel in a John within the five minutes it would take for Keith to run to the store and back, he didn’t think he could bear to see the look on Keith’s face when he returned. 

Instead, he thought about the different ways he could tell Keith the truth when this was all over. Face to face was obviously best, but should he bring something as well, for an apology? A card, or a cake. The thought of Keith holding either seemed very strange to him. Or a bottle of whiskey bought with his ID to prove he was overage? Effective, but Lance wasn’t sure that sent the right message.

He wondered what Keith’s reaction would be. Angry, and a door slammed in his face? A shocked silence? Or maybe just disappointed that he had wasted so many nights for nothing. Lance had no way of knowing for sure. He wondered how much it would change whatever unnamed thing they held between them. 

 _“Lance, don’t look up but you have an incoming bouncer from Daibazaal on your nine.”_ Pidge told him. He had half forgotten they were there, for a second. 

Then it hit him. This could be the moment the op hinged on, the chance he had to get inside Dabazaal and the underage prostitution ring. This was go time. 

He feigned unawareness, taking in a deep breath slowly through his nose. He reached inside himself and pulled out the character he needed to be portraying. 

He heard heavy footsteps on the pavement, approaching. He waited for a beat, and then looked up, eyes wide, as if he had only just noticed the approaching man. The bouncer was heading straight for him.

He needed to separate the officer he was in his head with the facade he was putting up now more than ever. The character he was playing didn’t know who this man was, didn’t know his intention. His character would treat him like any other John to pull in. “Hey baby,” He started, like many times before. “Why are you in such a rush? We can take our time.” 

The bouncer snorted, coming close enough to be able to look down at Lance. “Not my type, kid. But I’m here to offer you something much better than a twenty.” He was chewing something, jaw working up and down.

Lance tilted his head, like he didn’t know where this conversation was going. “What do you mean?”

The bouncer smiled. “Y’know, at first I thought that guy was your boyfriend. But then I saw you working the street as much as you could when he wasn’t here. What’s his deal?”

Lance shrugged, decided to go straight in. “I don’t really know him.” A lie. “He doesn’t like that I’m underage.” Not a lie. Keith would be back soon, so Lance needed to move fast.

The other man nodded. “Thought it was sumthin’ like that.” He leant forward, enough that Lance could smell the tobacco on his breath, revealing what he was chewing. “A nuisance, eh? I know a guy that’ll pay you more to do the same work inside. That sound good to you?”

 _“All right Lance, we’re a go.”_ Antok said through the earpiece. _“Sending for SWAT squads in unmarked vehicles for standby.”_

Lance nodded. “Yeah, it’s fucking cold out here.” He joked tentatively.  

The bouncer tutted at him. “Best not swear in front of the boss, he likes ‘em innocent.” He nudged Lance’s foot with his own, turning. “Well? Let’s go.”

Nodding again, Lance scrambled to his feet, putting on a little more clumsiness. In the back of his mind, he could see this man shivering on the witness stand. He started following, but the man stopped him, raising an eyebrow. “Ditch the hoodie, kid. You won’t be needin’ it inside.”

For half a second Lance was taken back. He had gotten so accustomed to the hoodie he hadn’t even thought of it. Then he caught himself again, nodding. “Of course.” He said, shrugging off the hoodie, folding it and leaving it in the doorway where he’d been sitting.

And they left, walking towards Daibazaal. Lance positioned himself slightly behind the bouncer’s shoulder, so the other man would feel in control. With every step, Lance’s concentration honed in, the drunk revelry blurring in his periphery. 

 _“Right, as soon as you enter Daibazaal we lose our eyes. Remember, your extraction signal is talking in Spanish.”_ Pidge paused. _“Stay safe, Lance.”_

Lance bobbed his head slightly, knew that Pidge would be able to see it. The partygoers lined up for the club blinked owlishly at him as he bypassed all of them. 

Someone was yelling in the distance. He tilted his chin up as a man in the line sneered at him-

“-ance!” Keith. It was Keith who was yelling. “Lance! What are you-”

Realistically, he knew it was better for the op to not look back. Doing so would only bring Keith to the bouncer’s attention, and Lance didn’t want to drag him into all of this. 

But his heart wouldn’t let him. He glanced over his shoulder. His eyes immediately met Keith’s. He was running, but Lance knew he wouldn’t make it in time. He opened his mouth, to say something, anything that could placate Keith-

A firm hand guided him through the door to Daibazaal, closing with a thud behind him. The music was too loud to hear anything more from outside. 

There was a space close by the door where all the patrons had to leave their phones, not that Lance had one on him. They couldn’t have their illegal drug taking appearing in the background of snapchats. 

Below, the dance floor was filled with writhing bodies, people ferrying to and fro the bar, drinks held high. Lance could see small knots of people on the edges, where Lance knew the illegal drugs were being distributed. All of it was reflected in the grand mirrored ceiling.

He didn’t have the chance to see more before he was being ushered through a smaller door and up purple lit glass stairs. They opened up into a large, sprawling room with fewer people, lounging on low couches and dancing in the bass boosted music. He was able to spot some of Sendak’s prostitutes slinking around, hands landing suggestively on shoulders, thighs. Lance knew that this wasn’t the illegal ring Allura was after. They kept the younger ones somewhere else. 

They went behind a curtain of glass beads and through another door. When it clicked shut behind them, the noise of the club faded to a murmur.

The first thing that struck him about the room was that the floor was entirely transparent, offering a view down onto the main club below- the other side of the mirrored ceiling he had noticed earlier. The second was the man lounging behind a black chrome desk on the other side of the room, crystal cut glass of amber liquid in hand. Sendak. 

“A new find?” He asked slowly, eyes drinking in Lance. 

The bouncer shifted on his feet, clearly waiting for something. “Yes, sir.” 

Sendak nodded, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a stack of bills, leaving his hand firmly on top. “How old are you?” He asked Lance.

Lance grasped his hands together behind his back, trying to seem smaller. “Seventeen.” He answered.

“Good,” Sendak nodded, lifting his hand and turning his attention to the bouncer. “Nice job.”

Taking his cue, the bouncer picked up the money and left swiftly.

 _“That’s lawful knowledge, you’ve got this Lance.”_ Hunk told him. 

Sendak beckoned him, setting down the glass. “Come closer, doll. What’s your name?”

Lance did as he was told, digging a fingernail into the meat at the base of his thumb. “Lance,” He breathed. “Are you gonna be my boss?” 

Sendak’s lips broke into a sly grin. “Something like that, doll.” He rested a hand on Lance’s hip. “I’m gonna look after you, okay? If you do your job well we won’t have any problems. You don’t look like a trouble maker, do you?”

Lance shook his head. “No, I’ll be good. I promise.” He paused, taking a moment to let a touch of confusion take over his face. “How does it all work? What do I do?”

The grip tightened. “Let’s just say you’ll be paid on the hour. Twenty-five percent, good money. One of the older girls can show you the ropes. Safety, warmth… Doing what you do best, huh?”

 _“A lawyer could wriggle him out of that. We need something more concrete.”_ Pidge warned him. 

Lance pushed his anger at this sordid man beneath his skin, till it was fire coursing through his veins. “It was hard trying to sell blowjobs down on the street.” He stated matter of factly. A part in the back of his mind imagined Keith’s face hearing that, a mixture of furious and hurt. 

Sendak chuckled. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to worry about that, or making sure your customer pays you the correct amount. I have guys who’ll work that all out for you, doll.”

It was good, but Lance knew he could get better evidence. He watched the people below. The dancing looked half absurd without the music. He had a hunch of how he could get Sendak to be explicit, but he wasn’t going to enjoy it. “So I can start, then? Just like that?” 

Sendak tutted at him. “So eager. I like that.” He drained the rest of his whiskey, setting it aside and angling his knees further apart. “You know, sometimes I think of myself as a connoisseur.” He told him, eyes trailing over Lance’s body. 

Lance could hear the electronic buzz of prison doors. He took the hint, climbing up into Sendak’s lap. “Mhmm?” He hummed.

Sendak’s smile only grew wider. “Fast learner, aren’t you? Yes, I think of myself as a connoisseur, of sorts. I cater to people’s desires.” He slid his hands up to Lance’s waist. A muscle in Lance’s thigh twitched with the desire to drive a knee into Sendak’s groin but he suppressed it. Sendak continued, “Everyone has a favourite flavour; Girls, boys, experienced… and deliciously young, like you.”

Lance imaged Sendak’s jangling cuffed footsteps down a cold concrete corridor. _“That might be enough for the DA, Lance. On your signal.”_ Hunk told him, strained. Still, Lance knew he could do better. 

“And your favourite?” Lance asked breathlessly.

Sendak chuckled. “Why do you think you’re here with me, all alone?” He snapped the band of Lance’s fishnet top absentmindedly. Lance could hear the dirty grind of the heavy cell bars closing. “How could a good connoisseur like myself sell your sex to others if I don’t know how it tastes?” 

Lance smiled. The cell doors in his mind slammed shut for good. _“All right, Lance. That’s as concrete as you’re going to get. Give the signal so we can get you out already.”_ Antok ordered.

He leaned forward, lips centimetres from Sendak’s ear. “Espe-”

The door slammed open. “Sendak, your men have failed me once again.” The voice was low, deceptively calm with an undercurrent of fury. “I don’t have time for your preversions right now.”

 _“Something’s wrong.”_ Pidge stated.

_“Was that the signal, Lance? Confirm.”_

Sighing, Sendak pushed Lance from his lap. Lance turned to see an imposing figure standing in the middle of the room, flanked by two men. Lance knew his face from hundreds of unresolved cases. It was Zarkon. 

There was little to none solid evidence on Zarkon, the head boss of the Galra. He had a crazy, dangerous opportunity right now. He needed to let his team know somehow.

“I haven’t heard anything from my men.” Sendak replied, shifting in his chair.

 _“I’m going to send in the squad.”_ Antok said.

_“No, we wait for Lance’s signal. Something is happening.”_

Lance moved to the side of the room, trying to blend into the wall. “If I have to tell you what your own men have done, that makes you a rather lousy general, don’t you think?” Zarkon asked, moving to sit in the open chair in front of the desk.

_“Is that..?”_

One of the men at Zarkon’s side flicked his eyes over to Lance. “Don’t just stand there like a dumb whore.” He sneered at him. “Get the boss something to drink.”

Lance nodded, moving to the other side of the room where an array of liquors rested. He never stopped listening. 

“-went wrong with the delivery tonight?” Sendak asked.

Zarkon laughed at him. “Certainly, something went wrong. Your men didn’t check for quality. What do you think happened?” 

Sendak stayed silent. Lance finished pouring the drink and walked it over to Zarkon. “Here you go, Mr-” He broke off, like he had no idea who the man was. Now he could imagine two sets of footsteps, two cell doors rolling closed.

Zarkon’s eyes trailed over him, unimpressed. The gaze weighed hundreds of pounds. He took the glass from him. “Zarkon, child.” 

_“Shit.”_

_“Get Allura on the line. It’s her call.”_ Antok ordered. 

Zarkon continued, “Your men paid full price for weak cocaine mixed with baking powder.” He swirled the whiskey around in the glass. “This is an insult to the Galra. Heads need to roll.” 

_“Shit, you’ve just about got him for organized crime.”_

Sendak nodded. “And they will, boss. And for the suppliers?”

“We need to send a message.” Zarkon said. “We own this city, they need to remember that.”

 _“Lance, I know that this could be a big opportunity for the force,”_ Allura, voice distorted over the phone. _“-but your safety is the top priority. There is a reason we have never been able to find witnesses on Zarkon.”_

Lance knew. He had seen the bodies. But he was right on the edge of something huge, he knew it. 

“Rollo has good connections to the manufacturers, but he has a girl that’s less important. I say we eliminate her in front of him to show what happens when you cross the Galra.” Sendak said, vicious.

Zarkon nodded, draining the rest of the glass. “Good. Send some good men, not like the last useless lot.” He stood, his men immediately moving to be in step. “Be more careful about it this time. You’ve got many low-level cops on your tail. The deputy commissioner can only pull you out of the water so many times.”

And there it was. Everything, all the missing evidence, the unstickable charges, it all made sense now. The Galra had a plant right at the heart of the force. 

 _“Deputy Commissioner Haggar.”_ Allura was taken aback. _“This operation just got much bigger than ourselves, and much more dangerous for all of us. Send in the squad.”_

 _“Sting is a go.”_ Antok confirmed. 

Lance only had to last another minute. Then this would be all over. Keith’s face flashed through his mind.

“I’ll see that it is done.” Sendak promised, looking much more comfortable now.

“Good.” Zarkon’s eyes turned on Lance. “There is no trust to be found in whores. Kill him.”

_“Fuck fuck fuck.”_

Adrenaline was frigid water, running down his spine. One of the lackeys pulled a gun, moving towards Lance. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, kid.” He warned him. 

 _“Hang in there, Lance.”_ Hunk begged, panicked.

Lance backed away. Below, the club goers were running for the exits. He grabbed Sendak’s glass from the desk and threw it into the lackey’s face. Zarkon laughed.

The lackey brought his hand to his face, fingers coming back red. “Fucking bitch.” He growled, raising the gun.

The door slammed open and the gun fired at the same time. Lance dropped to the floor, shoulder screaming in pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really sorry for leaving it there! 
> 
> You can yell at me at mottainaiiii on tumblr!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final instalment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this chapter is a week late! What happened was that when I read back through the final scene, I realised that it had some serious issues and decided to rework it in my breaks at work (about an hour a day hahahah). But here we are! While I don't think the final scene is perfect, I am much happier with it now, so please enjoy!
> 
> Mild warnings for a referenced assassination attempt.

The first time Lance wakes up the world is only smears of light on his vision. His body aches and mechanical beeping bounces around in his skull. Someone brushes his hair off his forehead and tells him to get some more sleep so he does.

Consciousness is a slippery thing, and the next time he manages to grab a hold of it Hunk and Pidge are sitting at his bedside. They urge him to eat the bland hospital food and talk about the result of the operation and the fallout around Zarkon’s arrest for a few minutes. The nurse tells Lance that he is on the good drugs. He falls asleep again. 

He is woken up when his doctor visits, a tall thin man who speaks in circles that hurt Lance’s head. He tells him that the bullet didn’t hit anything vital and there is an eighty-seven percent chance that he regains full control of his arm with physical therapy. Hunk sneaks him some home cooking and Allura hugs him for a long time.

She’s still thanking him when he slips under again.

The next time he wakes to shouting. Allura tackles a nurse to the ground and a needle falls with a thump onto the bed next to his hand. People flood into the room. There’s a lot of arguing before Pidge yells at all of them to take it outside so he can rest. She doesn’t leave, though. 

Neither does Antok. He’s standing by the door and Lance can see the loaded holster at his hip.

The next time he wakes up his doctor explains that they are going to reduce his painkillers so he can be discharged. Allura tells him about the nurse from before, who wasn’t actually a nurse but a Galra loyalist coming to kill him. She tells him that he needs to go to a safe house for his safety. She apologises. Lance thinks about Keith. Hunk and Antok help him down to the car, and they drive for a long time. As the last of the good drugs wear off his thoughts become clearer, but so does the pain. He sleeps again.

* * *

Turns out, taking down an established organized crime unit and uncovering a criminal plant in the leadership of the police force was a dangerous and stressful task. One that Lance was glad not to be in head of. He didn’t envy Allura right now, with days filled with classified meetings with the Mayor and Commissioner, maneuvering the sudden removal of the Deputy Commissioner and tracking down the last dregs of the Galra. 

He had been discharged from the hospital three days ago, now. He was able to walk around now, his shoulder a constant source of dull pain. In a week, he would have to be escorted to the courthouse to give protected testimony in Sendak’s trial. Zarkon’s and Haggar’s would follow soon after. From past experiences, it was known that leaving a crime boss in holding for too long was a dangerous thing. 

Try as Allura might to protect his identity, the dots were quickly connected as to who had been wearing the wire that had nailed both Zarkon and Sendak in one night. He had been seen by too many people entering the club and leaving with the SWAT squad without handcuffs. Now, Zarkon loyalists were looking to take him out before he could give his damning testimony at trial. 

He was lucky that Allura had been with him in that hospital room. She was the one that had recognised the name badge to be belonging to the real nurse, who they later found unconscious in a supply closet. The syringe had been filled with a lethal dose of epinephrine.

It was agreed that Lance should have no contact with the outside world to keep him as safe as possible.

Here, “safe as possible” meant sitting on a run-down couch with all the blinds down, watching ridiculous daytime soap operas, arm tucked into a sling. His doctor had given him some small stretches to do to start his physical therapy. Even small movements felt like his muscle was ripping apart again. 

The walls were a drab shade of almost-grey, devoid of any shelves or paintings. He was sure that he would have already died of boredom if it hadn’t been for the rotating shifts his coworkers were taking, keeping him company and protecting him. 

Right now, it was Antok’s turn. 

The man in question silently put down a pick up four card. “Uno.” He said flatly.

Sighing, Lance picked up, awkward with his left hand. “I don’t understand how you win every time,” He complained. “Surely there’s an element of luck to it.” He placed down a red six.

“Maybe you’re just bad at it.” Antok replied, throwing down his last card. A red zero. “I win.” Lance was sure he could see the half ghost of a smile at the corner of his lips. 

Three knocks and two finger snaps came from the back door. “That’ll be Hunk.” Lance commented. “Are you gonna be here tomorrow?”

Antok nodded, standing and heading for the door. “Allura is pulling out all the stops to make sure you’re safe, so don’t let her down by getting shot in the head.” He warned seriously.

Lance laughed. He was getting used to Antok’s incredible dry humor. “I’ll do my best.” He promised.

Antok left and Hunk came in with a storm of grocery bags. “I was thinking before, about how horrible it is that my best bro has been stuck inside all week eating crappy fast food and potato chips,” He started, the words leaving his mouth in a rush as he headed to the tiny kitchen. “So I decided to cook you some food. But not just any food, some top quality, Michelin star restaurant stuff. My third-grade teacher always said that I should be a chef when I grew up, I saw her at the library the other day, did I tell you-”

“Hunk, Hunk, Hunk!” Lance interrupted, stuck between amused and worried. “Slow down for a second. Something is clearly up that you’re not telling me.”

Hunk busied himself with putting away the veritable mountain of ingredients. “What makes you think that?” He said, voice a tone too high.

Lance raised an eyebrow. “Because you’ve brought enough food for a wedding and you’re rambling like you do when something is bothering you.”

Hunk sighed, leaving the food and coming to sit on the couch across from Lance. He took a moment. “I processed a missing persons report a couple of days ago.” He told Lance eventually.

Lance frowned. “So? We get heaps of those, most of the time it’s a miscommunication issue.”

Hunk shook his head. “It was a missing persons report for you. Filed by Keith Kogane.”

The air suddenly became stuck in Lance’s throat. “He- What?”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you earlier, but I didn’t want to give you another thing to worry about. Then he came back in today to check on the investigation. Yelled at me for not doing my job, actually.”

Lance experienced the feeling of falling for half a second. Keith, earnest Keith. Lance hadn’t realised that he would go to these lengths, but really he should have known. This was the same man that had sat with a prostitute every night for hours to keep them from getting customers, after all. “How is he, what did he say?” He croaked. “What did you say?” 

Hunk sighed, looking preemptively apologetic. “He looked like shit, honestly. He thinks that the Galra are holding you against your will somewhere. He’s worried that you’re dead, and no one is looking for you.” Hunk grimaced. “I couldn’t tell him the truth because the trials are still to come. I tried to say that he didn’t need to be so worried about finding you, but that just made him more sure that you’re dead. He yelled a bit more after that.”

Lance swallowed. “Sorry Hunk. That couldn’t have been a good moment.”

“You’re telling me.” Hunk joked. “Anything for true love man, don’t worry about it. But you really need to tell him the truth as soon as you can, or not knowing what happened to you is going to rip him apart.”

Lance nodded. “I know.” The thought of Keith agonizing over his not-death was like a steel beam pressing down on his chest. Being stuck in the safe house had never been so frustrating. He briefly toyed with the idea of busting out, but he knew he couldn't freak out Allura and the rest of his squad that way. One person thought he was dead or captured by the Galra, and that was enough.

“Let’s go make that food, hmm?”

* * *

 Trials, Lance knew, had a tendency to drag on for dry technicalities. Considering the explicit evidence Lance had gathered, he didn’t think quite so much time should be spent arguing over the insinuations of this or that, but he wasn’t a lawyer. 

The Galra’s lawyer had pulled out all the stops, trying to get the section of the tapes considering Zarkon and Haggar thrown out as that wasn’t the purpose that the Judge had authorized. However, Coran, the DA, was able to easily rebuff her. It became obvious how much Haggar’s influence and meddling with evidence had changed the course of previous cases. 

Sitting in the small guarded room at the back of the courtroom was hell. His only source of entertainment was the antique television showing the recording of the proceedings, and he could only look at Sendak staring into space for so long. 

All he could think about was Keith, who as the days passed probably thought he was dead. The longer these trials ran, the longer Keith had to agonise and blame himself.

And Lance knew that Keith would be blaming himself. For not being able to convince him to leave that street, for not being able to catch Lance before he went through that door. Keith had told him once, that when he was younger he had thought that he had a curse that killed all the people who loved him. 

Lance wondered if Keith knew that he was halfway to falling in love with him. There were so many things that Lance needed to tell him. 

Finally, the juries in the three cases were sent out for deliberation. They didn’t take very long to decide. With each guilty verdict, a deeper sense of finality settled in him. The bad guys were being sent away for a long time. He hadn’t quite returned a girl to her family, but maybe he had prevented one being taken. It was enough just knowing that. 

It still took Allura a few more days to be content that the last of the Galra had been rounded up, but then she was releasing Lance from the safe house with a wry smile and a slip of paper. 

“Someone recommended this gym to me,” He told him slyly. “It’s called The Black Lion, owned by Takashi Shirogane and Keith Kogane. I think it might be better suited to you, though.” She winked at him, looking over her shoulder pointedly at the idling taxi behind her. 

Lance couldn’t fight the grin off his face if he tried. “Thanks, ‘llura.” He said, taking the paper and peering down at the scribbled address. It was Pidge’s handwriting. 

“We’re expecting you to be back at the precinct tomorrow,” She warned him. “You’ll have more than enough paperwork to occupy you while your shoulder heals. Also, I think Pidge and Hunk will explode if they have to wait another day to throw you a surprise welcome back party.”

Lance laughed, full and free. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He replied, jogging over to the taxi.

The drive to the Black Lion passed in a blur. His head was a jumbled mess of all the things he wanted to tell Keith but he couldn’t work out how to say them.

By the time they arrived, Lance was brimming with anticipation. He was excited to see Keith again but worried about his reaction. Hopeful they could become something more but scared that Keith wouldn’t want anything to do with him. Guilty that he hadn’t been able to come sooner.  

He entered through the front door and was greeted by the friendly receptionist. Her name tag read Shay. “Are you here to see Shiro for PT?” She asked, looking pointedly at his sling. 

Lance nodded. “A consultation, yeah.” He lied. “Can I have a quick word with him?”

“Sure! He’s free right now,” She replied, gesturing down the corridor. “His office is the last one on the left.”

Lance thanked her, following the directions until he came face to face with a door titled ‘Management’. He knocked. 

“Come in,” He heard Shiro call.

Lance eased the door open, eyes meeting immediately with Shiro’s whose mouth dropped open. Then he smiled warmly. Lance could see the back of Keith’s drooped head, hair mussed. He hadn’t turned around to see who had come in.

“Would you look at that!” Shiro exclaimed. “I need to go help with the, uh-” He turned to the window they had out onto the gym proper, where a group of middle-aged women were following an instructor. “-Pilates class. Just like I always do. I think you can handle this one, Keith.” He said, making for the door with surprising speed for his size.

Keith sighed, twisting in his chair to follow his brother. “Shiro, I don’t-”

His eyes landed on Lance and the words died on his tongue.

“Keith,” Lance started. “I’m sorry.” 

Keith looked as if someone had just hit him over the head. He blinked, staggering to his feet. “You’re- fuck. You’re here-” Keith spluttered, walking straight for Lance.

Lance shifted on his feet. “I’m sorry, I wanted to come sooner-”

He was enveloped in Keith’s arms before he could continue. Keith held him close, hands firm, like he was afraid Lance was going to crumble away. “I thought you were-” He didn’t seem able to finish the sentence. 

“I know.” Lance told him softly. After so long apart, Keith’s touch on his skin felt like balm on a wound. It was a moment Lance had been thinking about a lot cooped up in the safe house, and he let himself savour it. Keith smelt like deodorant and sweat, and Lance had to be careful where to place his chin to avoid the green-yellow bruise on his shoulder. There wasn’t anywhere else he would rather be, but he couldn’t keep stalling. Keith deserved the truth, and Lance was finally free to tell him it. 

He reluctantly pulled himself out of Keith’s embrace. “Here we go.” He psyched himself up, pulling his badge out of his pocket. “Hi, my name is Lance McClain and I’m a detective. I’m twenty-three, not seventeen. We met when I was working as an undercover agent looking to take down an underage prostitution ring by the Galra.” With every truthful word, it felt like he was washing layers of grime from his skin.

Keith looked like he had been hit over the head a second time, the happiness draining from his face agonisingly slowly. He sat down again, heavily. Lance couldn’t help but think back to all the times he had imagined Keith’s reaction. Now he would know which was correct.

“I don’t-” Keith screwed his eyes shut. Opened them again. Let out a breath. “You were lying to me the whole time?” 

Lance bit his lip. This was what he was afraid of. “Why I was there, what I was doing, yes. But the rest, when we talked -that was me.”

“Lance, you don’t understand.” Keith said softly. “I thought… All I wanted was to help you. I spent hours trying to get you off that filthy street, agonizing over why you had turned to that life, what you were doing while I wasn’t around. You couldn’t have just told me?” He clenched his fists, knuckles white.

Lance drew in a breath like shards of ice. “Keith, I wanted to. But my captain-”

“When you went into Daibazaal, and I knew the kind of things that would happen to you there, I nearly went crazy, Lance.” His words came out sharp and biting. Lance didn’t know what to say. Keith continued. “I thought I would never see you again, and it would be my fault. I have spent these last weeks with the weight on your life on my shoulders.” He sighed. “And you couldn’t tell me the truth.”

Lance shook his head. “Keith, you’ve got to know that even if I was that prostitute it wouldn’t have been your fault.”

“And you think that would have stopped me from feeling guilty?” Keith retorted. “That I wouldn’t have gone to the police to beg them to look for you? Or when they didn’t, to go looking for you at Daibazaal myself?” 

Lance’s eyes flicked down to the bruise on Keith’s chest, realising that there were probably more. “You went into Daibazaal?” 

“Yes,” Keith stated. “And I didn’t find you. The last of the Galra found me.”

“What were you thinking?” Lance asked in a rush. “They could’ve killed you.”

“Like they could’ve killed you?” Keith shot back, nodding at Lance’s sling. “What would they do to the undercover agent who took down Zarkon? Did you think about that? You’re acting like everything is fine but you’re obviously hurt.”

Lance felt like the moment was slipping from his fingers. “I got shot.” He replied reluctantly. Keith opened his mouth to say something to that, but Lance knew that he needed to let Keith see his side. “I got shot securing valuable information to imprison Sendak and Zarkon. I got shot to expose a mob plant in the police force. I got shot,” His voice faltered, “So that another kid wouldn’t have to go through the same thing again. Telling you I was undercover could’ve endangered the mission. I’m sorry for lying to you, and that I made you worry so much. But I can _never_ be sorry for doing my job.”

Keith said nothing, turning to look out the window. Lance felt his words bounce off the walls. The back of his eyes were prickling, but Lance refused to let himself cry. Finally, Keith turned around again and let out a breath. “Okay.”

Lance blinked. “Okay? That’s it?”

Keith shrugged. “Yeah. I might not like it now, and maybe I won’t for a long time,” He took a few steps back toward Lance, gaze hot. “But at least now I can understand why, and that will have to be enough.”

Lance felt a surge of affection for this man, who would let go of his anger so consciously. “That’s all I ask.” He shivered in the silence, suddenly feeling like an awkward teenager again. “Keith, I know that you thought I was underage until ten minutes ago, and you don’t have to say anything about it now, but I wanted to let you know that even though I was undercover my feelings for you are still true.”

Keith was very still, eyes boring straight into Lance, a grey so deep it was almost purple. “Tell me exactly what you mean, Lance.” He said, strained. “Please.”

Heat prickled its way up Lance’s neck. “I really like you, Keith. In a romantic way. But I understand if you don’t feel the same.” 

The air between them was electric. Keith’s eyes never left his. “To think, all that time I spent hating the way I felt about you, like I was no better than them.” He started to walk straight for Lance again.

“I wanted to tell you the truth, every day-” The meaning behind Keith’s words caught up to him just in time as Keith’s lips crashed into his.

As far as kisses go, it wasn’t particularly graceful or sweet. It was hard, desperate, the last gasp of air from a drowning man. Lance felt flushed and his hands fluttered by his sides, unsure where to land. They were pressed against each other but the distance between them was still too large. Keith’s lips were dry and their teeth clacked together and it was perfect.

They broke apart, chests heaving. “I’ve been waiting for that for a long time.” Lance confessed.

Keith chuckled. “Me too.” He kissed him again, thumbs running over Lance’s cheekbones, relishing in the ability to _touch._ Then, he suddenly stilled. “So... You were wearing a wire the entire time?”

“Yeah, and that earring I had was an earpiece.” Lance winced. “My partners kind of heard everything.”

The corner of Keith’s mouth twitched. “Everything?”

“Everything. Hunk and Pidge had bets about how fast you could find me.” Lance told him, rubbing the back of his head. “They’ve wanted us to be a couple from the start.”

Mortified realisation dawned over Keith’s face. “Don’t tell me that the detective I yelled at-”

“That was Hunk, my best friend,” Lance confirmed with a chuckle. “He understands, don’t worry.”

“I still have an apology to make, though.” Keith said, frowning. “Should I get him something? I don’t know what’s appropriate for the situation.”

Lance shook his head. “Hunk would be happy just knowing everything is alright now. You should come see him and the others in the precinct one day.”

Keith smiled, eyes soft at the edges. “I would like that.” He drew Lance back into his body, arms snaking around Lance’s waist and fingers tangling in his belt loops. His breath was warm on Lance’s skin. “I probably need to withdraw that missing persons report anyway.”

Lance rested his cheek against Keith’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to ever have to file one again.” The possibility that Keith might have to was left unsaid.

Keith hummed, and Lance felt the vibrations of it. “I would make you promise to never make me worry like that again, but I don’t think I could expect you to keep it.”

Lance let his fingers flutter over the pulse in Keith’s neck. “Probably not.” He admitted. “But I want to promise that I’ll come back to you, every time, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Keith smiled. Lance felt clean. “That’s a better promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it!  
> Thank you to everyone for taking the time to read this story, I've had a lot of fun! Please tell me what you thought in a comment or you can message me on my tumblr @mottainaiii is you prefer :)
> 
> p.s. I've been toying with the idea of writing Keith's POV for some scenes, like when he goes into Daibazaal looking for Lance or set after this fic ends as they grow together in their relationship. Let me know if that would be something you would be interested in reading, though don't expect it too soon!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! The next part will be up a week from now.  
> Please please please let me know what you think! I've tried some new things in this fic, like speech in the narration of the past, and the speech from Hunk, Pidge, and Antok through the earpiece, so I  
> would love to hear your opinion on if these things worked!


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